Candy Mulder: Something Vampire This Way Comes
by Cassandra Lange
Summary: A sequel to Candy Mulder...The Vampire Slayer? Candy gets tangled up in a ritual to awaken a vampire god and gains a cohort in the process.
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: If you don't like reading long notes, here it is in a nutshell - this is part II of "Candy Mulder...The Vampire Slayer?" For those of you who don't mind my blabbering, I'd just like to say that this story was a long time coming. I wrote part I all the way back in high school, and started this one about the same time...and picked it up again here, in university. So, if you sense a shift in sensibilities, tones, etc....blame it on the huge time lapse, not only between stories (not to plug myself, but it wouldn't hurt you to read part I, although it isn't necessary) but between *parts* of stories. All in all, I wrote this because I just love Candy. I don't think I'm the first writer to love one of their characters - I'm not *in* love with Candy; I think of her more as an annoying, but adorable, cousin. I also love her parents and the whole Buffyverse and although both are now officially gone, I don't see why they can't live on. So, on that note, be forewarned - it's an alternate universe, and I don't care what happened on either Buffy or the X-files. I've tweaked. Be warned - I tweaked.   
  
*And for those of you who are still listening, I hope that part III doesn't take quite as long! Darn writer's block!  
  
ENJOY THE SHOW!  
  
Candy Mulder, The Vampire Slayer: Something Vampire This Way Comes (1/6)  
  
"Oof!" moaned Winford as he tottered backwards.  
  
I retracted my outstretched foot. "Whoops. Sorry, Winford. Kicked a little too hard, huh?"  
  
Thomas Winford, my watcher, peered out at me from behind the umpire's mask he had over his face. He sighed, and pulled the mask up and over his head. "What's gotten into you? Brute strength alone does not make up for a lack of technique." He gave me another exasperated little sigh, trying to show me he was dead serious, but it failed. Come on - he was dressed up in a puffy suit, for protection, sort of like those plastic sumo suits you see sometimes, and it was totally funny.  
  
I suppressed a giggle as he turned away from me to adjust something in back. Winford means well - he's a great watcher. That is, he totally knows his vamps and his martial arts. It's his job, as my watcher, to instruct me, the vampire slayer, on those very two topics. But, from the five plus months I've known him, I've gotten the distinct feeling he is completely lacking in the fun department. And making *me* lose sight of fun, too. "You can't blame me, you know. It's a Friday night and look where I am." I gestured aimlessly at the library we were in.  
  
He turned back to face me. His face was pure confusion. "What? Here, in the library? I'm here as well."  
  
I gave my own little sigh. Pushing him gently away by the shoulder, I traipsed over to a chair and sat down. I was all sweaty, and my father's black "Aliens Make Better Coffee" t-shirt was darker in some spots. "Stuck in Sunnydale High - in the library - at..." I checked my watch. "...seven p.m. on a Friday night. I am a total loser."  
  
Winford plodded over to where I was sitting. "Why didn't you say something?"  
  
I brightened and looked up at him. "You could always patrol." he continued. I glared at him.  
  
I stood up half-angry, half-bored out of my skull. "Ick. Patrolling. Major funfest."   
  
Winford frowned, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
Okay, I admit patrolling isn't all that bad. Compared to the alternatives - homework or you guessed it, more combat practice. Or worse. Like, I distinctly remembering my mom asking me to rearrange my closet. Shiver. Plus, it wasn't all that boring. It sorta sucked at first, but since then, the pace had entirely picked up. I usually managed three or four semi-good slays a night. In addition, I'd even done in some creepy leathery demony thingy. Unfortunately, I can't remember its name or anything. Something short and sharp-sounding. That was the highlight of my week. More like month. In fact, now that I thought about it, vamp activity had slowed down considerably in the last week. Not good for a socially challenged slayer.  
  
I started to mention this to Winford, but he was petulant. "It's your duty, after all. Why are you complaining? You asked for, how do you say it? Action. The first three months you were here it was much too quiet. That, though, can be explained by the presence of Raphael, the vampire master..."  
  
"He was a *master*? Oh, thanks for that bit of post-event information!" I blared.  
  
My parents and I had first moved to Sunnydale, California five months ago. So that sucked, but it was just downhill from there. First, my parents, dedicated FBI agents, just up and quit the Bureau. Unfathomable. Then, I meet Winford. Read: instead of someone my own age to befriend. He kindly informs me I am the Chosen One. And, what, pray tell, is that? It means, basically, that I, Samara Candace Mulder, instead of leading a somewhat normal teenage life, (or as normal as a teenage life can be) must instead slay the undead - and when I'm not doing that, kick the kazoonga out of my puffy mentor.   
  
The thing is, I practiced like heck the first three months with the results being - nada. Not a single vamp. Very weird for Sunnydale. Did I forget to mention it's on the mouth of hell? Yeah, the Hellmouth. But then, this majorly freaky dude who was like a hundred years old (not that he looked it) blows into town and I end up staking three-fourths of his minion group, the Fearsome Quartet. Fast-forward to him kidnapping my parentals and me practicing full-scale slaying for the first time officially on a guy who'd already creamed two other slayers. Who was, I now know, a vamp master. And this connected how to the paucity of slayees? "And so what?" I asked.  
  
"Well, it's quite common for vampire activity to slow down with the presence of a master. You see..." He began removing his protective gear. Lecture mode.  
  
"Yup, got it. So, you think new big trouble brewing?"  
  
"Why do you ask?"  
  
"I didn't think it was like, crucial, but like, you know that right after I dusted Raffy there, the vamps came out full force again, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well," I twirled a lock of my hair around my finger. "Mostly, I've been doing in a good number of the overgrown leeches. Buuuuuuttttt..."  
  
"More substance, Candy." He rubbed his forehead like it hurt.  
  
"Like, this week, I staked like...one."  
  
"One?" Winford was suddenly real interested.  
  
"Yeah. One vampire. Caught him sniffing around this tomb. I mean, when Ralph came around, you couldn't find a vamp for miles. Guess they kinda respect the big guy, huh? Give him some bleeding room?" I suggested. Winford, in the process of removing his protective gear, looked fiercely at me. I sighed. I'm working on the puns, really I am. Who knew the slayer gig was so...cerebral? "Think it's a sign of evil?"   
  
"Quite possibly, yes. So, in lieu of training, I'd suggest a spot of patrol." The puffy suit was off and he was standing there in his nondescript librarian's outfit, looking intently at me.  
  
I shrugged. "Beats the heck out of beating you." I offered. He raised his eyebrow. I'm trying, I'm trying. "Hey, you practice or something? Looks just like my mom!" At my house, we call it the Signature Scully Raise, reserved for Mulder crackpot theories. Come to think of it, there's been a paucity of them, too. Quitting the FBI has definitely taken a toll on my parents' routines.  
  
Winford pointed with his index finger towards the door. "Go, Candy."  
  
"All right, all right." I conceded, gathering up my stuff. "But I gotta make a quick pit stop at my house."  
  
Winford was already cleaning up and didn't hear me. I shrugged again and started on my way home.  
  
The thing is, I wouldn't mind training so much, except that it's begun to consume me. Five months in Sunnydale, and I still haven't made a single friend. Not *one*. Partly I think it's because it takes me some time to warm to people, but I also know the inordinate amount of time I spend cooped up in the library is a factor. Who wants to hang with a major book nerd? I'm only a partial book nerd. I completely sympathized with my father's plight at Quantico, where coz of his out there beliefs, he was called "Spooky." But my dad never cared. Maybe coz he had my mom to watch his back. Who do I have to watch my back? Winford? Yeah, right.  
  
I reached my house and unlocked the front door. "I'm home!" I called out. I could hear the TV on in the living room. "Dad? Mom?"  
  
"In here, sweetie." came my mom's voice. I followed it into the living room.  
  
She was sitting on the couch, channel-surfing. "How was your day? The librarian tire you out?"  
  
I smiled wanly. Mom has no idea. She thinks all the extra time I spend at school is as a library assistant. Sure, she was kidnapped by that vampire master. But she wasn't present at the actual slaying, and even if she saw, I'm sure she'd rationalize it. That's her way, after all. She's the scientist - she met my dad when the feds asked her to debunk his work on the X-files. So, okay, she doesn't go along with his conspiracy theories, but she has a great faith in my father, and according to her, she's seen a whole lot that science can't readily explain away. Still, I wished she had a mind that was slightly more open. Then maybe I could tell her I was the vampire slayer, the only girl in the whole world skilled and strong enough to hunt down the undead and put an end to their terror. I'd use those exact words, too. Maybe even throw in "sacred duty". It's a whole lot better than pretending I was some happy-go-lucky librarian's aide. I mean, I burned one down at my old school in D.C. No one should let me near books.  
  
I sat down next to her. "No. We just catalogued some stuff."  
  
She tousled my hair, the same mousy brown as my father's, but with red highlights inherited from her thrown in for good measure. "You're sweaty." she pointed out.  
  
"Uh, yeah. Lugging around all those heavy...dictionaries." I blurted out, leaping up. "Where's dad?"  
  
She didn't raise an eyebrow. Totally un-Momlike. "Upstairs, video conferencing with the Lone Gunmen."  
  
"Really?" I said, too enthusiastically. "The Lone Gunmen are talking to dad? What's up? I thought he gave that all up to teach other people how to be weird."  
  
When they quit, my mom, a doc, took a position at Sunnydale General, and my dad at UCLA, as a paranormal psychology professor. I looked at mom. There's the Signature Scully Raise! "Hmmmph." was her vocal accompaniment.  
  
I dashed up the stairs and into my parents' bedroom. Dad was staring intently at something that had just come out of the fax machine. "Daddy..." my voice petered off as I looked at what he was holding. "What's that?"  
  
"A map of the seismic activity of Sunnydale over the past five months." said a slightly nasal voice from the computer screen.  
  
I grinned and said, "Hi, Uncle Frohike."  
  
Frohike is one of the Lone Gunmen. They're these computer geeks, good computer geeks, who've been helping my dad for years. They publish this newsletter that reports the truth on government cover-ups, military cover-ups - you know, anything covered up.   
  
I waved into the camera mounted on top of the monitor. "Hi Uncle Langly, Uncle Byers."  
  
"Candy." said Uncle Byers. He looks a lot like Winford, very spiffy. "How's school?"  
  
"Never mind school," interrupted Frohike. I've always thought he bears a striking resemblance to a Smurf, minus all the blue. "What's this your dad's been telling us about vampires?"  
  
I clucked my tongue at my dad, who looked briefly at me, then went back to studying the faxed information. Sure, dad knew about the vampires. It's just that he doesn't know the *whole* slayer thing and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't think even he would approve. What he does know is that I rescued them from the vamp master, and leave it at that. So whatever he'd been telling the Gunmen, wasn't about my sacred duty. "Yeah, well, we ran into one really creepy one." I almost blurted out the name, but that was a slayer thing, so I didn't. I wasn't supposed to know.  
  
"Just one you say?" asked Frohike. I nodded. "Still pretty scary."  
  
Dad was taking an interest in the conversation. Anymore and I'd be telling him the whole thing, so I cut them off. "What's with the interrogation? And the earthquake readouts?"  
  
My father answered. "The seismic activity we're seeing here," he jabbed at the paper. "I think could correspond to some kind of vampiric activity."  
  
"How so?" I asked, looking at the sheet. It looked senseless to me.  
  
"The readings are off the charts. It's amazing we're not feeling anything. But I think we will. Shortly. "  
  
"And the vampires have something to do with this how?"  
  
"Somehow," dad said, standing up. "I think they're tapping into a well of supernatural energy that's present here, and harvesting it."  
  
"You know the mandatory question - for what?" I prodded. I glanced briefly at the screen. The Lone Gunmen were listening intently as well.  
  
"That's just it. I don't know for what." He pulled back the curtain and looked out at the dark town. "But I get a feeling it's not good." 


	2. Candy Mulder: Something Vampire This Way...

Candy Mulder, The Vampire Slayer: Something Vampire This Way Comes (2/6)  
  
I scrunched the phone closer to my ear and counted two more rings. After dad had elaborated on his theory that vampires were gathering the Hellmouth's energy for some undefined evil, I knew I had to contact Winford, my watcher. With mom watching TV on the couch, though, I couldn't very well do it at home. So I told her I was going to the Bronze, the local teen scene and made a polite beeline for the nearest pay phone. No luck though. Seven rings and Winford still wasn't picking up. I let it ring some more then slammed it back into place.  
  
Patrol. Before I'd the left the library, Winford had said to patrol. Maybe I'd pick up some clues. I took a deep breath. "Right," I said aloud. "Patrol. For clues."  
  
I headed off in the direction of the cemetery. It was an amazingly quiet night. For any town. But it was particularly spooky for Sunnydale. Every imaginable evil uses this place as its vacation spot. Anything could be lurking in the shadows. Or at least, that's the way it *should* be. I groaned inwardly. Some excitement I was getting. You'd think there'd be some perks to being the slayer. You know, working off excess energy or something, the energy I'd saved up from not having any sort of social life. But no. Just when I'm initiated, that's when the bad goes all quiet. *So* not good.  
  
"Come out, come out wherever you are!" I sing-songed. Nothing.  
  
I walked miserably towards the cemetery. I wondered if I'd ever live up to the old slayer's rep. She was utterly feared. Of course, she was out of state at university and here I was, carrying on the mantle. What little was left of it. Some slayer I was turning out to be. The number of vamps I've dusted can be counted on one hand. Concede, exaggeration. But why was it that whenever I was getting my groove on, that's when the undead decide to lay low? I mean, yeah, so I wasn't exactly thrilled at first with this assignment. But, I adjusted. I'm entirely in with it now. Except, where's *it*?  
  
A small pebble was lying on the road. As I kicked it, I thought I heard a scream. That's more like it. I listened carefully. It sounded like the cemetery. Good, no extra exertion required.  
  
I ran towards the sound, which was getting louder. I could see the gates of the graveyard when a guy came crashing full speed through them and into me. We fell over backwards, him on top of me. "Aaaah!" he yelled, practically in my ear. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"  
  
I shoved him off and hurriedly asked, "What is it?"  
  
He was completely out of breath. All he could do, laying there on the ground, was point. His shaking finger directed me back to the gates he had just run through. I ran past him into the cemetery. A female vampire with really bad purple hair was coming towards me. "Yes!" I cheered. I charged the vamp and had her pinned to the ground in seconds.  
  
"This is gonna be so good. You know, I haven't just been practicing the violence part. The witty repartee..." The vampire reached up and grabbed me around the neck. I slapped her hands away, pulled a stake out of my back pocket and shoved it through her chest. "...goes, once again, unheard." I finished lamely. She vanished in a pile of dust.  
  
I stood up, brushing off my clothes. From behind me, I heard an astonished gasp. I spun around and saw the screaming guy standing there with his eyes bugged out. He pointed a quivering finger at me. "You...you..." he muttered incomprehensibly. Then he fainted.  
  
I'm telling you one thing - one of the hardest parts about this whole slayer gig isn't the vampire stuff, it's the human factor. I haven't had much practice, but I'm betting there's a lot of Clark Kenting in my future.  
  
I recognized the would-be victim that collapsed at my feet. He was in my bio class. Robbie. Something. I'm not so good with names. Whatever. The big was setting it up so that he had a plausible scenario to recollect when he came to. Something minus the bloodsucking undead.  
  
I hauled him to the Bronze and dumped him outside. No one noticed, thankfully. Then, as discreetly as possible, I slipped inside and stole someone's drink. I sniffed it to make sure it was alcoholic. I came back outside and doused the guy good. Then I shoved the glass in his hand. Okay, so it wasn't a perfect plan. How does an underage teen get an alcoholic drink? I'm not perfect. But hey, my mom's been in some pretty weird situations and she always comes up with plausible explanations. No matter how farfetched. Like, one time, my dad told me she actually dismissed a UFO as swamp gas. Yeah, right.  
  
That handled, I left to try and sort out my options. I had two - call Winford and tell him what my dad and the Lone Gunmen had concluded, or continue with the patrol and hope for some bloodsucker action. I chose the latter coz somehow I didn't think Winford was home. Probably actually doing the cataloguing I lied to mom about. Mr. Fun, yeah.  
  
I checked to make sure my stake was secure in my back pocket and went off to the cemetery again. Unfortunately, it was quiet. Or fortunately, I don't know.   
  
Not even a breath of the undead. I was totally disappointed. A whole night of patrol and all I got was one lousy vamp. It took me more energy to take care of his intended victim. I called it quits for that night.  
  
I decided to shortcut my way out of there, instead of actually having to retrace my steps to the front gates. I saw an opening between two mausoleums. It was more or less northerly, which was where I was sure my house was, so I walked through. Out of nowhere, I heard a low growling. Not man (or woman), and definitely not beast. I took out my stake. Vampire.  
  
I saw them out of the corner of my eye, about five or six of them, surrounding something on the ground. In spite of myself, I started to grin. I'd been deprived so long. A slayer needs to slay, as sick and twisted as that may sound. Otherwise, she starts to feel a little useless. Especially a slayer with no social life whatsoever.  
  
I didn't say anything as I approached them. They were all majorly fascinated by whatever was on the ground. As I got close, I saw that it was one of those blood transfusion bags you see at hospitals and stuff. One vamp was on the ground, holding the bag up so that the moon shone on it. He was chanting something in some language over it, his eyes closed. The others were pitching in at various times. I guessed it was some sort of ritual. I was okay with that.  
  
I tapped the vamp nearest me on the shoulder. When he turned around, I drove the stake through his chest. He exploded into gray ashes and suddenly, I was the center of attention. "All right, before we get down to business, let me hit you with this..." I began. But instead of finishing, I lunged forward and staked the guy in the middle. "...get it? Hit you with this?"  
  
The other vampires started growling and circling me. "Tough room," I observed. One of them broke from the group and tried to knock me down, but I was ready for him. He met the business end of my stake. "Come on. Any other takers? I got a whole bunch of months to make up for."  
  
Another vampire charged me. One fingernail scraped across my cheek, and I felt blood seep from it. "Hey, you play dirty!" I protested.  
  
Unexpectedly, the other vamps freaked. They all began gesturing and jabbering at me. The vamp that had scratched my face got off me quickly and tried to rejoin the group. They all pushed him out. "Nothla, Nothla" it sounded like they were saying. The outcast looked imploringly at me. They started chanting louder. I stood up, ready for battle.   
  
The ostracized one looked first at his buddies, who were strangely all shunning him, then at me. With a cry like a wounded animal, he ran straight at me and into the out-turned stake. He burst into silver dirt and was gone. So were the others. They'd all politely exited when kicked-out one started screaming. "Sissies," I mumbled. So much for a good night's slaying. A total of four. Fantastic. Well, at least I'd met my daily quota.  
  
I trudged home sullenly. The lights were on in my folks' room, so I poked my head through the door. Dad was at the computer, typing busily away, and Mom was reading a medical journal. "Hi, honey, how was the Bronx?" mom queried absently.  
  
"The Bronze," I corrected with a laugh. I had no idea. Except for the few seconds I'd been inside purloining someone's drink, I'd mostly been surrounded by the dead. Rather, not quite so dead. So I went with the answer all parents expect from their teens, no matter the question. "Fine."  
  
"That's nice, sweetie."  
  
"Uh, I'm gonna turn in." I told them.  
  
"Good," said Dad, not looking up from the computer screen. "It's a school night after all. Your mother and I decided, though, since you hardly ever go out anymore, it couldn't hurt."  
  
"Thanks, dad. Good night."  
  
"Night, honey." they said in unison.  
  
As I shut the door to their room, I rubbed a sore shoulder and felt the bruised cheek, which fortunately, hadn't been facing my folks. "Couldn't hurt. Right. There's gotta be a pun in here somewhere." I said to no one as I walked across the hall into my own room. Getting ready for bed, I wondered vaguely what "Nothla" could possibly be. I kinda think I'm supposed to know stuff like that. Demon names and stuff. Hey, but what's a watcher for right? Talk to Winford tomorrow, I thought sleepily. Can't be all that bad.  
  
"This is dreadful!" was Winford's reaction to my narrative.  
  
It was lunch, and I was perched on top of the table, playing with a tassel I'd attached to the zipper of my backpack. Outside the library, I could hear kids rushing around, enjoying their forty-five minutes of freedom. "Huh?"  
  
Winford was pacing. I hate it when people pace. "Awful." he mumbled.  
  
I let go of the tassel. So not good when people mumble negative words. "Spit it out." I demanded.   
  
"You're sure they were chanting 'Nothla'"? he asked me for the millionth time.  
  
A breath whistled out from between my lips. "They were actually saying 'No duh.' Repeat, no *duh*."  
  
Winford did the Signature Scully Raise. "So I know I'm not Einstein when it comes to demony stuff. I have great hearing though. They were most definitely, one hundred percent absolutely with sugar on top saying 'Nothla'. Mean anything to you?"  
  
"Unfortunately, yes." He gestured me over to the circulation desk where a huge old book was lying open.  
  
I followed him over and peeked at the book. "What, no illustrations?"  
  
"No one's ever seen it."  
  
"What 'it'?"  
  
"Nothla."  
  
I did a double take at the page filled with weird writing. "Wait, you're saying No-duh is an it."  
  
"Nothla." said Winford, a frustrated edge in his voice. "He's a sort of vampire...demon, if you will."  
  
It was my turn to do the Signature Scully Raise. "Vampire demon? Don't they belong to separate camps? You got your vampires, then you got your demons. Never the twain shall meet."  
  
My watcher was shaking his head violently, appalled at having such an ignorant prot?g?. He hefted the book over to the table and I went back to perching on top of it. "If you must, a vampire god."  
  
"Now we're talking." I paused. "That's really not good."  
  
Winford ignored my observation. "The ceremony to call him is quite long and complicated and has only been attempted once in recorded history."  
  
"Assumption. It failed."  
  
"Correct. The key to this rather extended ceremony is that no vampire involved can spill any blood for a certain period of time."  
  
I flashed back to the misfit of last night that committed suicide on my stake. My hand went up automatically to the scratch on my cheek, which thankfully, neither mom nor dad had seen. "Explains why they wasted no time banishing Scratchy."  
  
"Yes." he agreed.  
  
A lightbulb went off over my head. "So, like, now, the ceremony's jinxed. End of problem."  
  
Again, with the violent head shaking. My hopes died. Blow all that need for the kill. I meant small kills, exceeding a quota. Not blowing past the quota like it never existed. The universe loves to toy with me. "No, it isn't. According to you, that vampire immediately staked himself. That rectifies it. The ceremony can continue."  
  
Sigh. "Give me the cliff notes version on this ceremony."  
  
"Simply, a group of vampires, the larger the better, comes together and vows not to spill blood for a certain time period. How long is unclear. In this time, none of the members may hunt. They live on what you saw, blood already spilled - from blood transfusion supplies, et cetera, that must be blessed first. If, like I said, there is bloodshed, the vampire responsible must quickly dispatch him or herself."  
  
"To what end?" I asked.  
  
"We'll get there. During this time, they must collect a group of seven girls and seven boys."  
  
"What's the obsession with seven?"  
  
"That ties in with the end you asked of."  
  
Silence. I tilted my head and stared patiently at Winford. Was it my imagination, or was he milking this for all it was worth? Was he really as bored as I was? Finally, he spoke. "The purpose of the ceremony is to call Nothla from the netherworld into this one. And, once he arrives, he must be fed without delay. The feeding itself is special. Nothla's symbol..." Winford flipped some pages. "...is the pattern of feeding."  
  
I looked at where Winford was pointing. It was this sorta house or tower shape, a long box with a coned top. Seven points were indicated on it with black dots. "One boy and one girl stand on each spot and..."  
  
"...vampire god gets seven course meal." I finished. Another flash. "I think I complicated their plans further. Some ugly vamp tried to grab this guy in my bio class..."  
  
"He saw you?"  
  
"Don't worry. My folks worked for the government. I know about plausible denial. Anyhow, I think he was an intended. I stopped that, though."  
  
"Not for long, I'm afraid." Winford turned back to the book. "I see that they're determined to go through with this. That would be the perfect explanation for the sudden decline in vampiric activity. Again."  
  
"Great. Lulls. That's my life, a bunch of lulls punctuated by major evil. So, why they conjuring up this guy anyway?" I started playing with the tassel again.  
  
"He's the vampire champion." said Winford ominously.  
  
"In what way?" I twirled the tassel around my finger.   
  
"Once Nothla is called, he cloaks the world in eternal darkness."  
  
I stopped with the tassel. "Pause. Rewind. Play."  
  
"Vampires no longer have to wait for the night to feed. Night will be all there is."  
  
I looked up and out at one of the windows set high into the wall. Sunlight shone through, soft and filtered. The sun. What would the world be without it?  
  
"Vampire buffet," I muttered. I was too bummed even to think of something witty. That's all I could come up with. "Twenty-four seven night equals a vamp smorgasbord."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Guess I'm gonna have to do something about it, huh?" I asked meekly.  
  
"Your job as the slayer."  
  
My sacred duty. Oh, man. I looked out at the sunshine again. New slayer truth. Some weeks are most definitely tougher than others. Don't dis the downtime.  
  
The bell rang. "You have a study hall last period?" Winford asked as I picked up my backpack and started to leave.  
  
"Yeah," I said softly.  
  
"You'll need all the time you can get."  
  
"I'll be here," I told him. I walked out the door. People were rushing around, running off to their classes. Ignorant. Oblivious. Didn't have a clue that maybe even tomorrow, they'd be bloodsucker bait.  
  
God, I wish I were like them. 


	3. Candy Mulder: Something Vampire This Way...

Candy Mulder, The Vampire Slayer: Something Vampire This Way Comes (3/6)  
  
It was only when I was halfway to my biology class than I remembered I'd forgotten to tell my watcher about my dad's latest theory. Normally, I wouldn't have given much credence to my father's wacky reasoning (call it a defense mechanism I picked up from my mom, a sort of Scullyish reaction), but back in D.C. no one ever told me vampires existed, in multitude, and I had to slay them. Sunnydale was dad's kinda town, situated on the mouth of hell and all - and his theory that the vampires were using the energy surrounding the Hellmouth, for evil (what else?) suddenly made way too much sense.  
  
I spun around and was about to backtrack to the library when I found myself being propelled against a row of lockers. Now, I'm the slayer. I have preternatural strength and a bucketload of skill. Catch me anytime but off-guard and that guy would've been dog food, but I was too absorbed in my own thoughts to realize what had happened until it did. I looked up and found myself staring into two crazy eyes. It took a moment for the face to register. Robbie. Saved his neck from being vampire food last night, then dumped him at the Bronze covered in liquor. Hey, when your folks spend years sifting through the government's denials, you learn a bit about it by default. Getting boozed up had to be a better memory than getting drained dry, right?  
  
Robbie pinned his hands on the locker on either side of my head and looked straight at me with murder written all over his face. Guess not.  
  
I felt the greatest need to knee him then and there, but I remembered who I was. Candy Mulder, mild-mannered transfer from D.C., who just a few months ago was trying out for cheerleading. For lack of anything else to do, I assure you. Still, that was me. Clark Kent in silk pants. "What was that about?" I demanded. I heard the steely tone in my voice and took a breath. No need for violence now.  
  
"God, what are you?" Robbie's face poked closer to my own, like he was studying me. "Anti-teen temperance?"  
  
Oooh, big word. I guess he thought I didn't know what it meant, because he went on. "Like, are you against abstaining from alcohol?"  
  
I sighed, blowing a breath straight at him. He closed his eyes and turned away briefly. "I know what temperance means, but I still have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Barbie and Elysia, two of the school's most popular (and bubble-headed) plastic-coated princesses, snickering behind their perfectly manicured fingers. Barbie and I tried out for the squad at the same time a couple months ago. It was the same time I also reaffirmed the need for brains at Sunnydale High. It may sound pompous, but I require someone who knows that a conversation involves more than the phrases, "Where'd you buy that?" and "How does this look on me?"   
  
Elysia was also on the squad, but I didn't know her except from class. She had a seraphic face, framed by soft gold tresses. Her hair bounced like crazy as the snickers graduated into laughter. I looked Robbie over again and realized something I'd forgotten last night.   
  
Robbie's nickname, oddly harkening my own father's unflattering FBI sobriquet. 'Weirder'. Not just weird - *weirder*. He was constantly looking over his shoulder and muttering about 'things that aren't right'. Everything has a deeper and darker meaning for him. Like, last week when they changed the sandwich bread from white to whole wheat, he went on strike. Just sat right down on the floor, in the middle of the cafeteria line, and refused to budge. "This," he'd bellowed. "...is a heinous act! Don't you know what this means? *Someone* has taken offense at the white, someone who is himself, *dark*!" Can you say whacked out?   
  
I so did not need this. I got enough of it at home. I shoved him off of me. "Keep off me." I warned through gritted teeth. I shoved him back and started towards class. He caught my arm.  
  
"I was lucky my mom didn't catch me. I had no idea how to explain why I smelled like...whiskey, or whatever you dumped on me!" he hissed.  
  
"What are you talking about?" I continued to ask.  
  
"I saw you!" he insisted, pointing at me.   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about!" I yelled, escaping to the last bench in class.  
  
Fortunately, the bell rang and he had to scramble to his own bench, which was thankfully, far from my own. Unfortunately, Barbie and Elysia were right in front of me, and their topic of conversation was my exchange with Robbie in the hall.   
  
Barbie, trying to discreet, but failing miserably, said, "Could you just die? I *told* you that girl was bizarre!"  
  
Oooh, big word, Plastic One, I thought bitterly. Elysia contributed, "If Weirder doesn't know what she is..."  
  
I laid my head down on my backpack and closed my eyes. I thought about Maureen, my best friend back in D.C. Well, until the beginning of last year that is. Right during the first month of school, Maureen's dad, who's CIA, was transferred to Belgium. We promised to mail each other, and I had, almost religiously, until the move to Sunnydale. Then, well, Maureen got busy. And I got *majorly* busy, and I hadn't even thought about her. Until now. I really needed a friend now. Or a gun.  
  
"She has this weird t-shirt. It had this weird slogan on it." Barbie was saying.  
  
'Weird' was obviously the new catchphrase. How ironic. It was the adjective of my life.   
  
I was about ready then to punch Barbie's head in. She was, after all, making fun of my fave tee, my dad's "Aliens Make Better Coffee Shirt" shirt. I loved that thing. I would've defended it, too, my fist was already reaching out, except I remembered. No one on my back. That is, no one to watch it. That's what friends are good for. I sat back, cursing under my breath, and started composing a mental e-mail to Maureen when the teacher came in and started talking.  
  
"All right. I'll be quick. We haven't had the need for lab partners because up to now, we haven't had any labs. Well, buckle up, because it's lab time and I'm assigning your partners." Our biology teacher, Mr. Matthews, is not one to waste words. Especially on us.  
  
Collective groans. I was wondering if 'pea-brained vanity-driven sycophants' had too many hyphens.  
  
"Nothing fancy. Just paired you up with whoever was under you on the attendance sheet. All right, move to where your partner is when I call out your names."  
  
More groans, and me thinking that describing Robbie as 'spookmeister' was an injustice to my father.  
  
I mostly tuned out Mr. Matthews until he announced, "Robert McAfee and Samara Mulder."  
  
My head jerked up. Firstly because I hate it when people call me Samara. I've been 'Candy' to everyone since I was six, after this lisp-afflicted teacher mangled my name, and secondly, I realized that "Robert McAfee" was none other than Weirder himself.  
  
I gulped, and tried to get up, but he was already lumbering back towards me. He threw his bookbag onto the bench with a thud, and in spite of myself, I jumped. "Sit down. This is a good enough place." He positioned himself on the stool next to me and reached into his bag. Gun? No, novel. "The fates are sly. Partners, but in name only. You do your part, I'll do mine. I don't feel like interacting with a...whatever." He glared at me for a second then he opened the novel to a creased page and began reading, ignoring me completely. It gave me a chance to better observe him.  
  
He had a mild case of acne sprinkled over his tanned skin, and little too much gel in his jet-black hair. The bronze color went nicely with his dark eyes and hair, but it also had the affect of making him look more sinister than I suspected he was. The novel he was reading was Stendhal's "The Red and The Black", actually one of my own top ten. I raised an eyebrow at this in true Scully fashion, but decided not to comment. Mr. Matthews was coming down the aisle with the assignment.  
  
"Questions. The key to science." he lectured. Robbie turned a page and kept reading.  
  
I crossed my legs and sighed. "Your job is to collect ten samples of anything." Mr. Matthews said. At a snicker, he amended himself. "Decent. Samples of anything *decent*. Then, you will switch with another pair and they will analyze your choices and try to find out what they are."  
  
A girl in front raised her hand. "How do you mean?"  
  
I saw Mr. Matthews take a deep breath. It wasn't his choice to teach high school biology, I could see. "For instance," he drew out the words. "...dirt."  
  
Silence. "A sample could be of dirt and the job of the pair given the dirt would be to analyze its composition and so forth. Ask, what is it and where did it come from?" His eyes scanned the room. No hands. "So, get to."  
  
The class began to buzz with the semi-interested chatter of high school students. I chanced a look at Robbie. "We'll split the work. You do five, I'll do five." he offered without looking up.  
  
I shrugged. "Kay." I said.  
  
He finally looked over at me. "Like you're too good to add the 'o'."  
  
I said it slow and deliberate, "Kaaaaaaaayyyyyy."  
  
He snorted and went back to ignoring. That was fine by me. I had more important stuff to consider.  
  
I managed to take notes through the rest of the class, although I was fuming. First, those ditzes and now this putz as a partner. Could you die? It really wasn't my day. Scratch that, it really wasn't my *millennium*. The moment the bell rang I rushed back to the library. At least there I wasn't a total loser.  
  
Behind me, I could still hear those pea-brained princesses snickering about me and Weirder McAfee. "They're such a perfect pair," I heard Elysia say, much too loudly. I sighed inwardly, hunched my bag closer and hotfooted it back to Winford's.  
  
He was organizing some vampire books. Thankfully, no one ever goes in there so he can do that. "Candy, what is it?" He was midway through stacking the next book on a pile that already seemed too high to manage.  
  
"I...wait, let me catch my breath." I panted. I leaned on the table for support. I collected myself and my words came out in a torrent. "I forgot to tell you, my dad has this theory."  
  
"Your father had a theory?" His voice took on a wary quality. He's heard about my dad's theories.  
  
I quickly raised a hand. "No, no, hear it out."  
  
"How could anything your father said have any impact on you? He has no idea you're the slayer. Furthermore, he has no idea vampires even exist..." Winford's voice abruptly petered off. He was staring incredulously at a spot directly behind my head.   
  
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I spun around and was only partially surprised to see Robbie standing there, his mouth wide open. Ick. He was pointing again. He did that a whole lot. His lips began to move and they formed one word. "Vampires?"  
  
I gestured behind my back for Winford to move the books quickly, but Robbie was too fast. He pulled the top book off of the stack before we could stop him and read the title. " 'Vampire Encyclopedia' ." he read, shocked. He dropped the book and backed away so that he staring at both me and my watcher.  
  
I braced myself. "I saw you!" he blared. More with the pointing. "I knew I wasn't crazy!"  
  
Wanna bet? "Listen, Robbie..."  
  
"I was attacked. It was a vampire. It had fangs and this face..."  
  
"Game face," I said absently. Winford tapped me on the shoulder.  
  
"Uh, I mean, face? What are you talking about?" I played dumb.  
  
But he wasn't listening anyway. He was surveying the library, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is amazing," he whispered. Winford and I exchanged glances.  
  
"Robbie..." I decided in that instant to come clean. He'd already seen too much, heard too much. No amount of covering up was going to solve this. I just hoped he wouldn't blab. I didn't much feel like breaking anyone's legs. Unnecessarily.  
  
Winford must have known what I planned, because he left the pile of books and went to sit down. "Robbie," I said, approaching him. He was still looking around.  
  
I went up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face me and there was still this shocked expression in his eyes. "Maybe we ought to sit down," I suggested. I led him to a chair.  
  
Seated, some of the incredulity left his eyes, but he was still puzzled. "You see," I began. "Last night, you were attacked by...how do I say this?"  
  
"A vampire?" he offered. "An undead creature of the night who preys on the blood of the innocent?"  
  
I frowned. "That's a total misconception. They don't care if the blood's innocent. That's not like a flavor or anything!"  
  
Winford cleared his throat and looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry. So where was I?"  
  
"Skip to the part where you came in."   
  
Pushy much? I was tempted to make a face, but this was serious. This was the first person outside the watcher-slayer circle who was going to be let in on the secret. True, I wished it weren't Weirder McAfee, but like he said in bio. Fate is sly. Maybe there was some warped reasoning behind all this. "Right. So, there are these vampires, and I'm the slayer. I...stake them and turn them into dust, making the world - or at least Sunnydale - safe for most nightcrawlers. Of the human variety. Happy?"  
  
Robbie actually looked like he got it. "Cool. So you're like a superhero, right? With superpowers?"  
  
So, okay, he didn't. Not really. "Sorta," I replied lamely. "Welcome to the club."  
  
That last bit was said reluctantly. I did not, by any stretch of the imagination, want Robbie in on my secret identity. What's a girl to do though? At least now I could threaten to break his legs off if he told and he'd believe me. "Tell anyone else about this and I'll break both your legs off."   
  
"Whoa," he said. He put his hands out, palms up. "Who's gonna listen to me anyhow?"  
  
Truth. "Whatever. I got bigger fish to fry."  
  
Having said that, I realized the gravity of it. "Winford..."  
  
"So the librarian is involved how?" Robbie broke in. Winford and I stared.  
  
"He's not a librarian..." More throat clearing. "...kay, so he is. But he also doubles as...uh, how do I say this? He's like...Obi Wan Kenobi."  
  
Robbie nodded. "Get it."  
  
"Good. Now that that's *really* over with, you want a brief of the situation?"  
  
He jumped up. "Hey, whoa there. I'm on board with the slayer stuff, the karate master stuff..." Winford was gonna rip his throat out the way he was clearing it. "...doesn't mean I'm a part of it."  
  
The nerve! "You creep!" I blared. "You know the secret, you're in on the...secret! I just assumed..."  
  
"Listen, Candy, this isn't one of those television shows where I magically join your gang once I know what you are. If you believe that, then maybe you should be the one with a nickname." Robbie fixed me with his dark eyes, daring me to contradict him.  
  
I couldn't do anything more than sputter, "Well, 'scuse me..." before he was out the door.  
  
"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" I asked my watcher, infuriated. Winford was shaking his head. I thought he was agreeing, but when do adults ever agree that someone is a creep?  
  
"Candy, I don't think it's appropriate that that young man knows your secret. It can't be safe. It never is. Perhaps you should...do something about it." Winford was biting on his lower lip, a sign that he was mega-worried.  
  
"Shuh, what should I do? I just threatened to break both his legs off! Plus, he's right. He's Weirder McAfee, no one's gonna listen to him. Heck, did anyone listen to my dad in all the years he busted his neck around the FBI? And he has a degree from Oxford!"  
  
Winford was practically chewing off his lower lip. I counted to ten silently then threw up my hands in defeat. "All right, all right. I'll talk to him." I started for the door but turned back with a thought. "Might be good to hide those vamp books, though."  
  
Winford just stared. I shrugged. "Hey, a bit of slayer sloppiness isn't half as bad as watcher messes."  
  
I skipped out before he could comment on that. I spotted him immediately. "Hey, Robbie!" I called chasing down the hall after him. Kids were milling around, enjoying their few minutes of freedom and I found it hard to catch up with him. "Robbie!"  
  
He was stalking determinedly away from me, not even bothering to turn around. I saw Barbie out of the corner of my eye and heard her sigh dramatically, "Lovers' tiff."  
  
Finally, I caught up with him as he was rounding the corner and managed to pull him back by his backpack. "Robbie, can we talk?"  
  
He shook me off like a pesky fly. "Mulder, I know this is about the *issue*, and I don't wanna hear it."   
  
Whoa, this guy just kept 'em coming! Mustering up as much disgust as I could, I took a deep breath and said, "Regardless of what you may think about the *issue*, I don't deem *you* important enough to discuss it with. What I *do* have to discuss with you however, is the little matter of our biology lab."  
  
A visible change occurred in his stance. Rumor had it Weirder was fanatical about academics - he was shooting for Ivy League and nothing was going to stop him. Maybe the rumors were true. "Guess I can't depend on your to pull your weight. All right. After school. We'll meet outside the library to collect samples together. Don't be late." Then he was gone. As if my greatest secret in the world hadn't just been revealed to him. As if his reality hadn't just changed in the blink of an eye. As if being the slayer took a major back seat to a biology lab. I'll give you one thing about Robbie McAfee - he is one focused man. 


	4. Candy Mulder: Something Vampire This Way...

Candy Mulder, The Vampire Slayer: Something Vampire This Way Comes (4/?)  
  
After filling him in on my dad's theory about vampires harvesting supernatural energy and having him agree it was something to consider in regards to Nothla, I told Winford I'd be out sample-hunting with Sunnydale's own teen conspiracy theorist that afternoon and he sighed deeply. "What a strange young man." he commented. "Does he have many friends, extracurricular activities?"  
  
I was in the process of tying my sneaker. "That's your criteria for strangeness? What extracurriculars do I have besides slaying the undead? And friends? Haven't seen one of those in awhile."  
  
Winford patted my head absently as he walked past me towards the window. "It's just striking to me that...well, he and you are actually quite a match."  
  
Before he could explain his bizarre comment, Robbie poked his head in. "Mulder, I said *outside*."  
  
"Coming, coming." I said. I picked up my bookbag and tossed it over my shoulder, "See you tomorrow, Winford."  
  
Outside in the hallway, McAfee was waiting impatiently, tapping his foot in a discordant rhythm. "Some people have things to do, you know." he accused.  
  
"I guess you're not talking about yourself, huh."  
  
He didn't even bother to reply. He took the lead, and shrugging, I followed him.  
  
We exited the school and walked along in silence for a long time, me just following him and him looking...very serious. And weird. Definitely weird. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Hey, McAfee, mind on filling me in?"  
  
I've never seen anyone turn their head so slowly -or look so far down his nose at me. I could see the beginning of a sneer around his eyes and it took all my willpower not to punch him in the face. When he spoke, it was in a tone designed to make me feel as much of a five-year-old as possible, "I thought you'd realized already, Mulder. We're going to your very own stomping ground."  
  
"Huh?" I began, but then I saw suddenly where we were. The cemetery.  
  
He'd opened his bookbag. "What are we doing here?" I asked stupidly. He handed me a few Ziploc bags.  
  
The sneer that had been forming took on its full form. "I don't know. Making candied apples?"  
  
I was about ready to push him over, but he traipsed on ahead into the cemetery before I could react. I huffed out loud, and mentally composed a plea to Maureen. "Maureen, does your dad have anything in the way of untraceable poisons?"   
  
By the time I caught up to him, he was bending over plucking a dandelion with what looked like a pair of tweezers. "A dandelion?" I asked incredulously. "Yeah, that'll really give 'em a run for their money."  
  
Without looking up, he said, "Maybe if you were more intent on collecting samples instead hurling half-witted barbs at me, Mulder, we could get this over with and leave each other's company sooner."  
  
I was about to screech "Half-witted?", but decided there was a kind of warped wisdom to his words and shrugged it off. I spotted some green slime-like gunk on the side of a mausoleum and asked Robbie if he had anything in the way of a scraper. He whipped out a vicious-looking file from a set of polished scientific-looking tools he had in a nifty leather case. "You really know your stuff." I commented, trying to be polite. He waved me away. The guy really had something against common courtesy.   
  
I mimed stabbing him in the back with the file and moved off to scrape the gunk off the wall and put in one of the bags. I was so busy, I didn't notice Robbie until he loomed up in front of me. He was staring straight ahead, an inexplicable look on his face. I followed his gaze. "I wonder what kind of samples we could get in there..." he said with a dreamy quality in his voice. "Guaranteed As'."  
  
He was talking about the mausoleum. I scrambled to my feet. "No way. No how, man. We're not going in there."  
  
"What? Chicken? I thought you were the...what do you call yourself? The *slayer*?" I didn't particularly care for the way he referred to my sacred calling.   
  
I snapped my sample bag shut. "That's not it, chowderhead. I'll be fine if they are any fangy nasties in there. It's *you* who should be worried. Being out here, in the sunlight, that's fine. But go in there? Any vamps asleep in there could still definitely make a meal of you. And frankly, I'm not into slaying in the daytime." I paused here, considering. "No, scratch that. I'm not into saving your face. Again."  
  
"Whatever, Mulder. Come or not. I've survived in this town this long - way before you ever showed up." And just like that, the fool just marched on into that mausoleum, not caring if it was some kind of vamp nest or anything. I was about ready to *stake* him. Thinking how patient my mother must have been to put up with my father for so long - and to even *marry* him - I walked in after Robbie.  
  
He was crouched down in one corner. The place was pretty musty and a cloud of dust surrounded him. He was holding up a swab of cotton with something dark on it. "Mulder, can you identify this?"  
  
Sighing, I walked over and examined the cotton swab. I took it from him and turned it around, getting a 3D view. "Looks like..."  
  
"Samara?" sounded a bewildered voice behind me. A bewildered voice that had a decidedly mom-like intonation to it.  
  
Robbie was already standing up and patting the dust off his pants. I turned and was greeted by the sight of my parents standing in the entrance of the mausoleum. "Mom. Dad. Uh..."  
  
"Your parents, Mulder?" asked Robbie coolly.   
  
My father and mother smiled at that one. "Mom, dad, this is Robbie, my partner. My lab partner." This was really awkward.  
  
You really have to hand it Robbie, though. He didn't seem to understand the oddity of being introduced to someone's parents in a resting place for the dead. He extended his hand towards my folks as politely as if he were my date, picking me up at my house. My father was a teeniest bit taken aback at first, but recovered and shook McAfee's hand. "Robert McAfee. Pleased to meet you, sir." he said. Then he shook my mother's hand. "You as well, ma'am."  
  
"Likewise," said my father, in a tone I knew was amused.   
  
"Your daughter and I are collecting samples for a biology lab. I hope she didn't worry you." What?!? Was this Weirder McAfee talking? I gave him a shocked look.  
  
"Oh, we didn't know she was here." said dad.  
  
"We're here on...personal business." my mother offered. "You two just get back to your...sample-hunting."  
  
I guess that was all the dismissal Robbie needed because he nodded and went back to looking over his cotton swab. My mother flicked her eyebrows towards the door and I walked after my parents outside.  
  
"Seems like a good kid," was dad's first comment once we were out of earshot.  
  
My mother raised an eyebrow. "So, mom, what are you and dad doing out here?" It was the foremost question on my mind.  
  
It was my father who answered. "A couple of disappearances were reported, teens, very mysterious. The LA field office gave us a call, seeing as how we have a history with 'mysterious'."  
  
"It was also nice that we just happened to be only agents in the vicinity." my mother added witheringly.  
  
I was confused. "Agents?" I echoed. "You quit the bureau."  
  
It was mom's turn to look confused. "That's right. We did. We were just called in as experts." she said, not losing that confused look. She looked a little like she was lost.  
  
"Anyhow, your mom and I were investigating the last place the most recent victims were seen. That park across the street. Then..." Dad pointed to somewhere behind him.  
  
"We decided to come in here and have a look around, and that's when we found you two." finished mom. My parents. Always finishing each other's sentences.  
  
I realized immediately they were talking about Nothla-related disappearances. "Who were the victims?" I asked.  
  
Again, my parents shared a look. "Sweetheart, I don't see how it's any of your concern." my mom finally volunteered.  
  
"Well, of course it's my concern, I'm the..." I caught myself in time. "...same age group as most of them. Maybe I even knew them. Maybe they even went to school with me!"  
  
Mom and dad couldn't debate that. "Names were Viv Carlton and Peter Delinksy. Seniors at Sunnydale High." offered my father.  
  
"Um, I think I've heard of them. Viv was on the school paper, I think. Peter was on the swim team. Cute couple." I said.  
  
"They were a couple?" asked mom. She made it sound like critical info.  
  
I took a moment to think. Viv had been a medium-height brunette who wrote music reviews for the paper. She'd always been quick to smile at me, even though she was senior and always had headphones clamped over her ears. Peter, I recalled, had been dark-haired and tall and beyond that I couldn't remember anything. Except that they'd been dating for about two weeks. "Uh-huh. For a couple of weeks. Why?"  
  
"Just something we'll check out," replied dad, which wasn't much of an answer.  
  
"We'll see you at home for dinner, sweetie. Don't be too late, all right?" continued my mother. Finishing each other's sentences, again.  
  
"Tell that McAfee boy we said good-bye." called dad over his shoulder and he and my mom left.   
  
I watched them go and all of a sudden, I got a very uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't sure I wanted my parents investigating this whole Nothla thing. Heck, I wasn't sure *I* wanted to be investigating this Nothla thing. It was true my parents had had years of experience in the FBI, with the X-files, that they were experts, if there ever were any. But I couldn't help thinking how even with a slayer's superpowers, she can still succumb to a vampire god's wrath. And what of my mere mortal parents? No. I didn't like them working on this case. I didn't like it at all.  
  
Later that night, Winford and I decided to do a duo patrol - coz he thought that two heads would be better than one. Like, duh? I'd told him about Viv and Peter and I think that got him sorta freaked. What got him downright freaked, though, was that my folks were investigating. "I'm not certain that's such a good idea," he'd said, chewing his lower lip.  
  
Okay, now they're my parents and like I said, I really didn't like them diddling in demonic forces, either, but give me a break. They're trained professionals! My watcher was making them out to be a pair of amateurs. "I'll have you know my parents have had more than their fair share of...paranormal investigations. My dad can quote spooky stats around you any day." I'd said indignantly.   
  
Winford obviously got the negative vibe because he dropped the topic. We'd rendezvoused at the cemetery at six, just before sunset (I'd told my parents there was urgent shelving to be had - seriously, adults will fall for anything!). Winford was weighed down with a bag full of something. My guess was slaying supplies. I had a stake in the back pocket of my jeans. I'd learned early on that slaying is a job that is best accomplished with the minimum amount of equipment. A stake is all you really need; the other stuff just weighs you down, and you almost never get a chance to use any of it. "What's in the bag?" I asked sarcastically. "Mini bar?"  
  
He dropped the bag with a thud, exhaling loudly. "Materials for a protection spell. It should keep the vampires at bay - at least for tonight."  
  
"Sounds like a plan. Let's get to it."   
  
We hauled the bag into the cemetery, Winford explaining that he would cast a sort of protective dome over the place. "According to what I read, the vampires must remain within a resting place for the dead for the duration of the Nothla ceremony. Therefore, if we trap them in here for tonight, they can't collect any more hapless victims."  
  
"At least for tonight," I added. "But I'll take it."  
  
He began spreading out his stuff, and since after a few minutes I realized I was more of a bother than a help, I stepped out of his salt circle (according to Winford, vampires detest salt) and did some light patrolling. The sun had set and it was darn quiet.   
  
I walked back to where Winford was kneeling in his salt circle with a bunch of lit candles surrounding him. "Whoa, intense." I breathed.  
  
"Yes, quite. Now, Candy, listen. Once I start the spell, I can't be interrupted or I'll have to start all over again. And since it takes about three hours, it would be better if I wasn't interrupted." He looked meaningfully at me.  
  
I threw up my hands. "Hey, enough said. No talking. I get it. Geez, all you had to say was 'Shhhh'." I complained.  
  
Winford threw me a frustrated look and I pretended to zip my lips. "No talking, promise. See, I'm walking away."  
  
When I was out of earshot, I began dictating a letter to Maureen. "The librarian has a stick up his..."  
  
"Caaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnndddddddddddyyyyyyyyyy!"  
  
My name reverberated through the night air. It was coming from Winford's direction. I ran as fast as I could back to where I'd left him and saw that he was surrounded by six vamps, all in game face and snarling like crazy. They were momentarily stunned by the salt circle, but I could see them racking their brains on how to get in. I pulled the stake out of my pocket. "Hello, boys."  
  
They all rushed me at once, but I managed to dust them in quick order. All except for me, a short weasly looking one who was real quick on his toes. "What are you, a kid-sized version of a vampire?" I asked mockingly.  
  
That kinda ticked him off because he growled and flung himself at me. I put up my arms to block him, but I shouldn't have bothered. His flight was cut short by a wide beam of very bright white light. He yelped like an injured dog and went crashing to the ground, hissing and burning where the light had hit him. Regaining my senses I rushed forward and staked him through the heart. It disappeared in a cloud of gray.   
  
It was at that point that I turned to find the origin of the saving light. Winford was already gaping. I don't think I could have been more surprised to see a mutant dandelion, because lo and behold, it was Robert "Weirder" McAfee himself. 


	5. Candy Mulder: Something Vampire This Way...

Candy Mulder, The Vampire Slayer: Something Vampire This Way Comes (5/6)  
  
"Robbie?" I sputtered. Somehow, something had possessed Robert McAfee to save my watcher and I from a crazed vampire attack. After an entire afternoon spent sniping at me and pretending vampires didn't exist. Who would've thought...?  
  
Yet, there he was, standing in a grubby button-down shirt and faded jeans, cradling a camping lantern in his arms. It was the light from that lantern that had burned the vampire enough to stun it and let me move in for the slay. "What...?" I managed to begin again, only partly.  
  
He switched off the lantern. "Modified it. UV light. You didn't give me the whole rundown, but I figured our fanged friends wouldn't take too kindly to it."  
  
I stared. From his face to the lantern to his face again. It made no logical sense whatsoever. What was he doing here, saving my neck? The logical Scully side of me protested to this unbelievable situation. I started to feel a little light-headed. "I...I think I have to sit down." So I did, just sat right down on the grass.  
  
Robbie snickered. "You just staked a vampire through the chest, didn't bat an eyelash. My presence gives you the faints? Should I feel flattered?"  
  
Winford had left his salt circle and was coming towards me, concerned. I shot Robbie a dirty look. So saving a person's life didn't cool off his sarcasm. "Oh, please. I just...had to catch my breath." Noticing that I was still sitting, I quickly stood, brushing recently-dusted vampire off my clothes. I snuck a glance in Weirder's direction and saw that he had a cockeyed grin on his face.   
  
"Candy, are you all right?" Winford asked. He had his hand on my arm and I got the feeling that if I didn't give him an answer soon, he'd be feeling me for broken bones. I felt a curt nod sufficed.   
  
I moved past my watcher towards Robbie. "What are you doing here?" I asked, finally completing my previous thought.  
  
He shrugged. "I was around these parts and it occurred to me, what with your penchant for cemeteries, it was likely you'd be up to something in here. Plus, I heard a scream." He set the camping lantern on the ground between us.  
  
"That would be me," offered Winford helpfully. He was once again in the middle of the salt circle, scrounging around in his bag for something. After a moment or two, he bounced back up with an oversized container of salt. He popped the lid and began pouring more of the white seasoning around himself.   
  
I stopped watching my watcher flavoring the ground and returned my attention to the issue at hand. "Right, so you heard Winford screaming...but what's with the lantern? You just *happened* to have a camping lantern modified to emit UV light, a particularly good defense against bloodsucking uglies?" I watched him flush. So the real story outs.  
  
Robbie shrugged again. "Okay, okay, if you must know...I felt...bad...about the way I acted earlier. I just wanted you to know your secret's safe with me." The surprise must have shown on my face. He rushed on. "It still doesn't mean I become your groupie or whatever. Just that you don't have to worry."   
  
"Wonderful, young man." Winford was relighting the candles that had blown out during the attack. "Now, if you're through, perhaps you could run along home. I have a spell to cast and Candy has some patrolling to do. Wouldn't need the added distraction of someone who so obviously does not want to be here."  
  
A strange look passed Robbie's face. "Uh, I agree with Winford. You should go home now. But thanks for the help." I added sheepishly.   
  
Weirder hefted the lantern up. "Anytime, Mulder." There was a funny catch in his voice. He began walking away. I got the distinct feeling he was not pleased.  
  
I looked back at Winford and saw he was pretty much in ritual mode. "Uh, Robbie..I'll walk you out." I called, jogging after him. He didn't even slow down. I caught up to him and we walked in silence for a few minutes. I decided to break it, just as we approached the entrance gates. "What you did back there..."  
  
"Shhhhhh." he hissed. He stopped dead in his tracks and switched on the lantern.   
  
I was immediately on alert. Hey, you can't survive as the slayer without being able to jump into cautious mode at a moment's notice. Sure enough, I caught the faint crunch of footsteps just dying away. I felt for my stake and held it at the ready. "Be on your guard, they can strike at any..." I wasn't even able to finish my sentence before a stupid vamp was on me, trying for some non-lethal, no bloodshed attack. Fat chance. I kicked and scratched for all I was worth. "Robbie, try to bleed!"  
  
From somewhere beyond the vamp that was straddling me, I could hear Weirder trying to do just that. I landed a right hook on the vampire's chin, enough of a blow to send him sailing off me and for me to jump back up and drive my stake through his heart. To my left, the lantern in Robbie's hands was sending rays of UV light everywhere but on his target, a gnarly girl vamp with streaked purple hair. She was too busy on top of him to notice me sneak up behind and plunge the business end of my stake into her. She vanished in a cloud of dust. Robbie lay there, looking stunned, the lantern stilled and held close to his chest. "Guess that spell of Winford's didn't kick in yet." I offered. Robbie coughed and sat up.   
  
There was a momentary silence, then, "You do this on a regular basis, Mulder?"  
  
I shrugged. "Ever since I got to Sunnydale. Yeah."  
  
He stood, shifted the lantern to one hand and eyed me speculatively. "Suppose it's harder than I thought."  
  
I would've liked to mull on that, but at that moment we were interrupted by a half a dozen more vampires. They emerged out of the darkness and grabbed Robbie, knocking his lantern to the ground. They looked like they were ready to shed some blood and they were all chanting, "Nothla." I didn't particularly like the sound of that.  
  
One - the leader I guessed - was a twin of the vamp that'd been busy with Robbie, save for she had pink hair. She sneered and said, "Nothla's final sacrifices are ready."  
  
I *really* didn't like the sound of that.  
  
With Robbie as a hostage, I had no choice but to allow myself to be frog-marched to a creepy mausoleum smack dab in the middle of the graveyard. Inside, by torchlight, I saw why Winford's spell hadn't panned out - he'd been captured by two fat vampires in too-tight leather clothes. When he saw me and our situation, his entire face fell, like a kid who's been denied dessert. Of course, I'd been his only hope. And perhaps the hope of the world.   
  
The pink-haired vamp gave a signal and a trapdoor in the ground opened up and all of us were shoved down it. The three of us were pushed into the lead, with the vamps behind us forming a sort of phalanx. "Great going. What's the plan?" asked Robbie in an elaborate stage whisper.   
  
I cocked an eyebrow at him. "What makes you think there's a plan?"  
  
An audible groan. We kept on, finally reaching a spacious antechamber, lit with hundreds of torches. The room was bright and warm, stinking of sweat. Etched into the ground was a blown-up version of the symbol Winford had shown me. It looked like it had been drawn in blood that had long since dried.   
  
The girl vamp with the poor excuse of a dye job grabbed Robbie by the ear, taking care not to break the skin, but, I could tell, inflicting as much pain as possible. He was shoved into a makeshift cage near the back of the chamber. I could see that it housed a number of teenage boys and girls - I counted twelve in all. Winford was trying to wrench free, but was held steady by his guards. The vampire holding me pinched my arms for good affect.  
  
Out of the darkness emerged a hooded figure, slightly stooped. From what I could tell, it was vampire - really, totally, ugly vampire. It sniffed the air with its wart of a nose, then turned to bubblegum hairdo girl. "The slayer?" it purred in an almost unnaturally low voice. The girl vamp just smiled. "This sacrifice will surely please Nothla. Prepare for the calling."  
  
I'd been looking for an opportunity to go ballistic on everyone, but with growing chagrin I realized that with so many innocents hanging around, it wouldn't be so easy. I glanced over at Winford, who looked more than a little uneasy. Vampires surrounded us, pouring buckets of thick, fresh blood over the lines that formed the symbol on the floor. Instantly, the stench of sweat was joined by blood's characteristic metallic tang and I thought I would toss my cookies.   
  
The cage was opened and the prisoners shoved into position. I heard one girl whimpering, "But the blood will ruin my shoes." Right hon, you're about to be sacrificed to a vampiric god who's gonna go feeding frenzy on the world and all you can worry about is a little red on your Pradas. I felt like saying, "It'll come out with club soda", but realized it wasn't the time or place for a witty quip.   
  
Robbie was placed at the 'place of honor', the point at the top of the symbol. The others formed the square section of the etching. I remembered then what Winford had said - fourteen sacrifices in all. Standing on the symbol were thirteen - I was the fourteenth! Sure enough, no sooner had the thought popped into my mind than I was being thrust towards the place where Robbie stood, managing not to look overly scared. "Please tell me you're going to get us out of this, Mulder." he hissed as I was moved next to him.  
  
"Um, a little difficult when I have no plan..." I started.  
  
"Then improvise!" he practically screamed.  
  
The hooded vampire, who'd just walked to the center of the symbol, looked our way. I nudged him to be silent and stared straight forward. The cowled bloodsucker looked pleased and removed the hood to reveal...a whole load of ugly. Just above the bulbous nose were two beady little eyes that were spaced too far apart to do anything for the face. His fangs protruded out of his mouth and they were a horrible shade of unsanitary yellow. He was hairless and had pointed ears like a garden gnome. All in all - a face even a mother couldn't love.   
  
All around the symbol, I could hear the disgusted utterings of a group of a people accustomed only to Californian molded perfection. The worried shoe girl even had the strength of mine to murmur, "He fell into a vat of gross." The ugly seemed to take offense at this, because he roared and started towards her. I took that opportunity to pounce. All hell then promptly broke loose.  
  
Vampires streamed out of the darkness, attacking the sacrifices. I knew that even without spilling blood, they could do a lot of damage. I needed to help the teens, but the leader vamp was a real piece of work. I was on his back, piggyback-style, trying to get into a position to stake him as he bucked and screamed like a stuck pig. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Robbie fighting off a vampiric attacker and urging the others to do the same. "Keep improvising, Mulder! It's working!" he screeched, jabbing an attacker in the eye. This made me feel a little better...except that Gnarly threw me off him and began to chant. "Candy, he's starting the ceremony!" yelled Winford from somewhere amidst the fray.  
  
Even without that tidbit of information, I would've known the ceremony had begun. Smoke was starting to rise from the lines of the symbol and the torches flared. Teens were still fighting vamps, though, so I guess they hadn't noticed. I lunged forward to stake the leader - and was stopped by an invisible field. He smiled at me with his hideously red mouth and continued to chant. I banged on the invisible barrier, which surrounded him like a cylinder, but all to no avail. I dusted a few vamps that tried to stop me, but the leader just kept right on chanting. The ground was beginning to sizzle. Everyone began to take notice.   
  
I had to do something. I gathered up the last remnants of my strength and prepared to launch myself at the leader - maybe I'd distract him long enough for the barrier to be dropped. I started running, waving my stake in the air like a maniac and just as I was about to launch myself, I heard a familiar voice yell, "Freeze! FBI!" The leader was distracted by *that* and it gave me my chance - I drove my stake into him so hard, he dusted within seconds. And just as quickly, his minions disappeared into the darkness.  
  
And it was just in time for the arrival of my parents and about twenty FBI reinforcements. 


	6. Candy Mulder: Something Vampire This Way...

Candy Mulder, The Vampire Slayer: Something Vampire This Way Comes (6/6)  
  
"FBI! Don't move! Don't move!"  
  
I hurriedly tucked my stake away and put my hands in the air - just like any properly-trained daughter of federal agents. *Ex* federal agents, or so they had claimed. But it was definitely my mother leading the way into the underground sacrificial lair, gun drawn, followed by my father, who, although he had his firearm out, might just have well have had nothing for all the attention he was paying to it. He was too busy looking around, taking in the candle-lit scene, and I knew, from experience, already figuring out what had gone down.   
  
"Easy, easy, they're just kids," said my mom. She was talking to the troop of FBI agents who were rounding up the teenage would-be Nothla (aka Nasty Vampire God) sacrifices. She hadn't seen me yet, but it wouldn't be too long...in fact, it would just about...NOW. "Candy?" She must have been really shocked, because she never calls me that. As if sensing my thoughts, she quickly corrected herself, "I mean, Samara, what are you doing here?"   
  
At this time, my father had walked up and joined her. He cocked his head to one side and gave me a questioning look - not as inquisitive as my mom's, just curious. I had to hand it to my father; anyone else who have been freaked. But not *my* dad, the world's most renowned expert on the paranormal. It gave me strength just looking at him...the strength to lie to my mother. Okay, okay, so I maybe shouldn't have, but I could tell from the way she was looking around, with this huge mask of incredulity on her face, and the gears in her head already cranking out some kind of scientific explanation, that "saving kids from a vampire god coz it's my sacred duty" wasn't go to swing it. So I went for the next best thing. "Robbie and I were working on our biology, and we just wandered in here by accident. We were just about to sneak out and call the police when you guys showed up." Mom didn't look like she was buying it so much. I tried to make my eyes wide and scared-looking. I reached up and pretended to wipe sweat off my forehead. "Whew."  
  
She looked like she was going to say something, but I guess something in her - maybe all the years with my dad - stopped her. "Well, the next time you come across a crime scene, get out as fast as you can, all right? We never taught you to be careless in the face of danger." She delivered this line like an addendum. The mandatory parental warning for an event that well...defies parenting parameters. Like, it isn't every day your child almost ends up as a bloodsucker's appetizer. Guess that's just the way moms and dads have to do it; turn everything into a life lesson.  
  
"Sure thing, mom." She nodded and started to turn away to direct the agents milling around. "Uh, mom?" She stopped. I don't know what made me do it - or maybe I did - but I wrapped my arms around her tightly and said, because I meant it, "Thanks."  
  
The Scully Signature Raise. She patted my head, then went off to see if the feds were doing a good job finding out what had happened. Which left my dad standing there, hands in his pockets and a playful light in his eyes. "Thank you, too, daddy."  
  
My dad's face was the picture of nonchalance. "For what? It was your mother who asked for a stakeout of this area tonight. I just...tagged along." He grinned. "We always have each other's backs."  
  
Right. My dad rubbed his thumb along the bottom of my chin. "You're going to do all right, Sam. You have what it takes. And don't worry about your mother...she'll just explain it all away. Hallucinogen, mass hysteria...mildew. She's got her pick." He chuckled. Robbie was walking up towards us. "I'd better go see if these agents need any help."  
  
Dad nodded slightly at Robbie as they passed. Weirder McAfee had a few scratches on his face, and one arms seemed a little more black and blue than it should have been, but other than that, he looked intact. "My God, your parents are incredible. How'd they get the cavalry out like this?"  
  
I shrugged. "They've got my back."  
  
Robbie looked confused. "Huh?"   
  
"Nothing." I looked around. "Where's Winford?"  
  
"Snuck out the back. It'd be kinda hard for him to explain what he was doing here, don't you think?"   
  
"Yeah, that's true. Well, I think my folks have got everything covered here. I don't know about you, but I'm beat. I think one or both of my parents have the authority to order an agent to drive us home." I gave him a sidelong glance to see if he'd object to that. He was nodding.   
  
"Sounds like a plan, Mulder."  
  
The first thing I did when I got home was take a long, hot, relaxing shower. Dad had gotten someone from the LA field office to drive Robbie and me home. It turned out Weirder McAfee lived in a comfy-looking one-story house not far from my own humble abode. He'd been almost pleasant, even saying good night as he exited the car. I realized as I watched him go up the path that he'd saved my life tonight.   
  
After toweling off, I checked my e-mail and found a short note from Maureen. She seemed to be having a blast in Belgium, where her CIA father had been transferred. I didn't know how to summarize my adventures for an email so settled for a brief account of the rest of my life in general. That easily accomplished in less than a hundred words, I went on to another mail, this one from Uncle Langly, one of the Lone Gunmen, the one I've secretly always called "Sweet Mullet". He'd sent me some statistics on the use of the word "dark" in the video gaming world and an explanation of what it all meant. I found it vaguely interesting, and on an impulse, printed it out.   
  
My parents arrived home then, and since I didn't feel like talking, I turned off my computer and the lights and jumped into bed.  
  
The next day, I woke up early and went to the school library. Winford was already there. He didn't look too bad, although he'd dislocated a shoulder. He gave me a short debriefing. "The vampires have all dispersed. Your parents saw to it that all the sacrifices were returned safely to their homes. The mausoleum has been closed off. I also suspect it will be a long time before any more attempts to perform the ritual are repeated."  
  
"Well, thank goodness for that." I breathed, perched on the circulation desk. I crossed my legs. "This is one slayer who most definitely appreciates just your good old vampires, hunting day by day. Or is it night by night? Whatever. Just give me your workanight vamp who picks up one or two bites for dinner. No more of this ritualistic anorexia!"  
  
"I agree whole-heartedly." said a voice from the doorway. It was Robbie.   
  
"McAfee, what are you doing here?" I couldn't keep the utter shock from making my voice squeak.  
  
"Can I talk to you, Mulder? Alone?" He looked at me earnestly. I glanced at Winford, who waved me off.   
  
I grabbed my bag and leapt off the desk. "See you at lunch, Winford." I tossed over my shoulder as we left the library. Outside, I headed towards my locker. A few students had arrived, but not enough to be much of a bother. "What did you want to talk about?"  
  
Robbie suddenly looked shy. He stared down at his shoes, which he shuffled back and forth. "I...I realized I never got to thank you for saving my life."  
  
A-ha! "No problem. A slayer's gotta do what a slayer's gotta do." I paused. "I guess I should say thanks, too. For last night."  
  
There was an awkward silence then. "So, how'd you get yourself embroiled with vamps in that first place?"  
  
I distinctly saw red flush his tan skin. "Uh, well, it was a girl..."  
  
"Say no more." I said. "We're good."  
  
I guess he took this as a dismissal because he started to walk away. But, as though touched by something inexplicable, he turned back. "I think we're good as partners, Mulder."  
  
I was in the process of routing through my locker. "Lab partners?"  
  
He shook his head. "No...I mean, yeah, that, too. But, you know...partners in combat."  
  
"Huh?" The slamming of my locker was its own exclamation point.   
  
He was totally red at this point; it was noticeable even under his tan, but he was on a roll. "You know, I've always had the distinct impression that nobody gets me, nobody even comes closer to getting who the heck I *am*." He stopped for a second, then, softly, "Not even me sometimes. But...but I think you have the potential. Uh, I mean that...what with your lifestyle...I'm not saying...I just think we can be..."  
  
His speech came to an end. I couldn't help laughing a little. Then, the invisible hand of fate nudging me, I reached into my bag and pulled out the email from Uncle Langly I'd printed out last night. "Here," I said, shoving the papers at him.  
  
"What's this?" he asked, peering down at the print-out.  
  
"Just a little something that says, I get you. Scratch that - that I *can* get you. And in answer to your question, the question you didn't really manage to get around to asking..." I took a deep breath, looking him straight in the eye. "Yes, I'll be your friend."  
  
At that moment, I felt as corny as I ever felt, but I was saved from having to reflect on that because the first period bell rang. Robbie fell into step beside me, reading the email. "Who sent you this? This is gold!" he exclaimed after a few seconds of silent scanning.  
  
I smiled, basking in the feeling of knowing I was safe from a vampiric deity invasion, for the moment, and, from now on, I had a partner to watch my back. "It's from a man called Langly, and I bet you'll get to meet him soon enough." I said. "He'll love you. Weird, weirder, weirdest - all of that's right up his alley."  
  
"Why do I get the feeling, Mulder, that it's also up your alley?" Robbie asked, tucking the printout away.  
  
I shrugged. "Maybe because it is. And you've just signed on!" So, okay, not the wittiest thing I ever said, but it was witty to me. Give me a break - I just saved the world! 


End file.
